


"I've Got to Be So Far Behind On Homework!"

by Exhausted_Sloth



Series: Comfortember 2020 [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Comfort, Comfortember 2020, Exhaustion, Fluff, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Rescue, broken ribs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:42:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27346033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Exhausted_Sloth/pseuds/Exhausted_Sloth
Summary: The Avengers find and rescue a hurt and exhausted Peter Parker after he was held captive for 10 days. Comfort ensues.Written for Day 1 of Comfortember: Rescue
Relationships: Bruce Banner & Peter Parker, Clint Barton & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Avengers Team, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Comfortember 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1996975
Comments: 6
Kudos: 270
Collections: Comfortember 2020





	"I've Got to Be So Far Behind On Homework!"

**Author's Note:**

> Written for day 1 of Comfortember: Rescue. Sorry if anybody's out of character, it's been awhile since I watched or read a lot of marvel things.  
> None of the characters belong to me! Also, sorry, there are probably medical inaccuracies.

Peter curled up tighter, shielding his head as the cell he was in shook around him. Dust rained from the ceiling as explosions sounded somewhere in the building. He didn’t know how long he’d been locked in the small cell, nor did he know who was causing the explosions and gunfire he could hear, but he desperately hoped it was the Avengers, there to rescue him. He remained curled up on the floor until the sounds of combat faded, then stood shakily and made his way over to the bars of the cell. He coughed at the dust still floating in the air as he looked around the small, dark room outside his cell, wincing as his ribs protested the movement. There weren’t any guards left in the room for the first time since he had been thrown in the cell, the ones that were posted there before having gone to investigate at the first sounds of combat.

He stood there for a few minutes, wrapping an arm around his torso as he tried to ignore the throbbing pain from his ribs. After a few minutes, footsteps sounded from the hall outside. Peter tensed as they stopped in front of the door to the room his cell was in, and settled into as defensive of a stance as his ribs would allow. A moment later, the door burst open and Clint Barton entered the room, his bow already drawn back. As the archer quickly surveyed the room, Peter relaxed, allowing himself to lean his forehead against the bars and wrap his arm back around his throbbing ribs.

When Clint noticed Peter leaning against the bars of the cell, he relaxed the bow, though he left the arrow nocked.

“You alright, kid? Tony’s been worried sick, we all have.” The older man looked around the room, trying to locate a key for the cell.

“Been better, Mr. Barton,” the teenager admitted, leaning more of his weight against the bars. Clint found the keys and doubled back to the cell, a look of blatant concern on his face.

“It got to be pretty bad if you’re admitting it, Parker. Let’s get you out of there and back to the Quinjet so Bruce can take a look at you.” The archer unlocked the door to the cell, yanking it open as soon as the stubborn old lock finally gave. “For such an old cell, it seems surprisingly sturdy, considering you didn’t manage to break out,” Clint remarked as Peter stumbled towards him, falling into the older man’s chest as his knees almost gave way. Peter didn’t respond, so Clint wrapped a strong arm around him as he spoke into his com. “I’ve got the kid. He’s not in great shape, so I’m taking him back to the jet so Bruce can look him over.”

Peter only half processed what Clint was saying as he let himself relax in the taller man’s embrace. He would have been perfectly content to rest there forever, but he eventually realized that the other man was speaking to him, so he roused himself enough to understand what he was saying.

“-going to head to the jet now, alright? Come on, it’ll only be a few more minutes, then you can rest somewhere much more comfortable than here, ok? Peter?”

Peter nodded, his face still buried in Clint’s chest. Clint shifted him, helping him wrap an arm around the archer’s shoulders. Peter felt the other man’s arm wrap around his waist, and gasped as Clint inadvertently put pressure on his throbbing ribs.

“You alright, kid?” The Avenger adjusted his grip, taking the pressure off the worst of Peter’s injuries. When the teenager nodded breathlessly, Clint gave him a skeptical look, but said nothing and started for the door, half carrying him. Peter stumbled along with him, doing his best to keep up. He only half saw the rooms and hallways they passed through as they made their way to the Quinjet, trusting Clint to make sure he was safe. He forced himself back to full alertness as he saw another figure approaching them, but relaxed again when he realized that it was just Natasha. He heard Clint talking with her, but just ignored them in favor of concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other.

A few minutes later, Peter blinked and squinted as he felt sunlight on his face for the first time in what suddenly felt like a very long time. He stumbled as his eyes burned, not used to the brightness after all the time in a dark cell.

“Come on, kid, just a little farther.” Clint paused for a moment, steadying him, before helping him over to the waiting Quinjet and up the ramp. As he entered the darker interior, he tried valiantly to focus on the flurry of movement around him. Clint helped him over to the medical cot where Bruce was waiting as Tony hovered nearby, watching the young superhero with open concern. As soon as he was seated on the cot, Clint hurried towards the front of the jet with Natasha, and Steve replaced him at Peter’s side.

“Good to see you again, Queens,” Cap greeted him as he helped him ease back onto the cot. Peter gave him a tired smile, letting out a relived sigh as he finally let himself fully relax.

Bruce took his wrist, gently taking his pulse. A few moments later, he settled Peter’s arm back on the cot beside him and addressed the exhausted teen.

“It’s good to see you safe, Peter. Can you tell me if anything hurts?”

“Everything,” Peter rasped quietly, “Ribs, mostly, though.”

Bruce’s concern was obvious as he looked down at him. “Can I remove your shirt to examine your ribs?”

Peter nodded, letting the scientist figure out how best to remove the shirt, not protesting when he decided to just cut it. He glanced up when he felt a hand card through his dirty hair, then leaned into it when he realized that it was just Tony, who was hovering by the head of the cot, smiling at him. He remained focused on his mentor until he felt a stab of pain from one of his ribs, and looked down to find Bruce carefully prodding at them.

“Sorry, Peter,” the scientist apologized. “I have to check if any of them are broken.”

“I know.”

Bruce smiled at him, and finished examining his ribs as quickly and gently as he could. He heard Tony asking Bruce something, but he didn’t think he was being addressed, so he didn’t bother paying attention to it.

“Steve, can you start an IV?” Bruce asked, glancing up at the super soldier for a moment. “He’s dehydrated.” He had moved on from Peter’s ribs, and was staring at the back of his hand.

“Of course.” Steve grabbed a tray and started to clean the back of Peter’s hand. As the two men worked, the ramp to the Quinjet closed, and Clint took off as smoothly as he could, quickly bringing them up until they reached the height they would maintain until they arrived at the Avenger’s compound. Bruce came over to Peter’s head, meeting his eyes.

“I’m just going to check if you have a concussion, alright? Then you can sleep, if you’d like.”

Peter nodded, flinching slightly when Bruce shined a light in his eyes. When Bruce told him a few minutes later that he didn’t have a concussion and could sleep, he just gave him a small smile, and let himself drift off, feeling Tony’s hand still moving soothingly through his hair.

* * *

Peter drifted back to consciousness some time later, feeling pleasantly warm and safe. He didn’t really want to wake up, but he could hear a voice urging him to open his eyes, so he forced himself to wake up anyway.

“Come on, Pete, it’s time to wake up now. Just for a few minutes, ok? Your aunt will be here soon, and I bet she’d like to see you awake.”

Peter opened his eyes slowly, looking around lazily as he realized he was in the medbay at the Avenger’s compound. Tony was sitting in a chair beside his bed, and Bruce was hovering nearby, writing something on a clipboard.

“How-“ Peter started to ask, then was cut off by a burst of coughs, which caused his ribs to protest sharply. Tony gently helped him sit up a little, then helped him sip some water from a glass he had gotten somewhere. Once the coughing had calmed down, Peter asked his question again.

“How long?”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “How long were you held captive, or how long were you asleep?”

“Both.”

“You were asleep for about twelve hours.” Tony gave him a sad smile. “You were missing for ten days.”

Peter groaned, a terrible though coming into his head. “I’ve got to be so far behind on homework…”

That startled Bruce and Tony into fits of laughter that lasted far longer than Peter thought appropriate.

“It’s not funny!”

Tony chuckled, wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes. “It’s just good to hear you sounding like yourself, Pete. If that’s your biggest concern, I think you’re going to be just fine.”


End file.
